To feel too deeply
and to be unable to feel
are my two greatest sufferings
and to grasp at the feelings
as inherently existent
my greatest ignorance, their source
Tag: attachment
Categories
Subtle Encouragement
There are no words
for the irrational feelings
of the gross human heart
(gross as in not subtle, nor very subtle,
referring to body, although I didn’t think
I was subtle either)
the body is filled with such putrid substances
36 impure I think
it really doesn’t matter the number
two is too many
and we share ours like it’s love
There are no words
for the irrational feelings
of the gross human heart
so I can make expressive sounds
but they express no sense
(so I’m not going to try)
everything I’ve done so far
now seems so meaningless
if I cannot stop being mean…
for some reason the familiarity
is that of breathing, self-cherishing
it ruins my life continuously
while shamelessly claiming my importance
as number one…
you’d think I’d spot the rub…
But it’s a poisonous devil, desirous
attachment, uncontrolled desire
a hook, a leash, a pleasure garden
growing harvests of pure deceit,
in all my suffering, in all my lives
you’ve hurt and harmed me
and still, I strive
love me, don’t leave me
impossible wishes
a one-way street from,
and a door half-open that
must open or swing shut
Each action, not over, plants its seed
later arising, believed,
this appearance of inherent existence
incorrectly conceived
and permanently perceived
prevents us from achieving
such peaceful states of mind
patient acceptance
compassion, loving kindness
rolling with the punches
flexible with time
healing from hole punches
or cruel one-night hoaxes
so personal at the time
we see ourself as a pinpoint in time!
How utterly boring!
And how painful the suffering!
find a right and find a wrong
do more of one and less of the other
and that’s a great start
because at the end, at death
we get an answer,
for which we may work our whole life
to make it a happy one
free from the most evil joke
of our unforgetting world
we never forget our pleasures
but we’re ever forgetting they’re turning to pain
even when the anguish hits immediately:
A REFILL PLEASE!
So I wish to volunteer so courageously!
may all negativity ripen upon me
and how about instead, spontaneously
all my cause for happiness and love
upon those
countless migrators absent freedom
let’s live free from uncontrolled agony
cleverly disguised as ecstacy
a snake in the garden that slurs
Eat of this tree
it’s why we see things mistakenly
it’s why they tasted the earth, curiously
and – subtle though it was –
the taste appeared so sweet!
how easy now to crave strange meat
our flesh is not enough for long,
so be prepared to watch the cumming
turn to going – if you do wish to cum that badly …
36 disgusting substances or more!
take it from me,
the subtle is less messy and less troublesome
if you’re the type that prefers childish fun
I highly recommend a different plane
it’s all mistaken anyway…
focus on good causes, attainments
My grandpa would say,
just try your best
It is said
they tasted the earth
and found it sweet
and that was the birth
of attachment to the food we eat
Attachment to the forms we see
to sounds we hear, scents we smell
to the tactile sensations felt
the gods betrayed us, every one
to attach a pleasurable feeling
to a non-existent tongue
Attachment, hatred
suffering, madness
all parts of the mind
love, compassion
equanimity, gladness
in only virtue will you find
everlasting happiness
My first attempt at producing a sestina.
My normal methodology for creation is spontaneous overflow of emotion (the excess is disgusting) or free verse, which feels channeled from other sources: spontaneously remembered, rendered incorrectly, perverted, and copied from other great artists, no doubt.
It also seemed more appropriate to select an engaging and more intentional subject matter since the poem is so contrived (in this case); I do not usually set out to write a poem. A poem will find me when it wants writing. However, I do enjoy the dance-like and musical qualities of rhythm & repetition. How many of Buddha’s 84,000 teachings did I manage to include here in this silly display of some of the stages of the path?
Enjoy!
Renunciation, a sestina
I have carefully taken out each hook
and the wounds bled for many a long day
and my clothes remained obviously stained
an unpleasurable display, gifts of samsara
and what should bloom in place of pain?
But another chain! We have no freedom!
Ah! But one must define this freedom
or how will we recognize release from the hook?
Do we know what it’s like to not feel pain?
How should we strive to create a happier day?
How miserable the mind that produces samsara!
addicted to deceptive conceptions, stained
With contaminated eyes, our vision stained
creates evil hallucinations, no freedom
and so we find it hard to escape samsara
our familiarity keeps us bound, as a hook
forcing our steady practice day after day
we should understand this to escape this pain
How difficult to bear witness to all beings’ pain
and accept responsibility for this mind that’s stained
How can I stand to fight me even one more day?
How can I believe the existence of joyful freedom?
How can I have the strength to tear out this hook?
Perhaps a bit longer, I will bear the agony of samsara…
This is addictive quality of samsara
hellish to hold us addicts of our pain
a snare that strangles, we must un-hook
what virtue could purify these conceptions stained?
we need a vast collection of merit for freedom
and increased faith in our spiritual guide day after day
Only he guides us out, faithful step, day-by-day
we must grasp this rare chance to leave the prison of samsara
we are now protected on our journey to freedom
he has shown us how to transform our pain
into pure motivation for ordinary beings, equally stained
cherishing others, I continue to remove each hook
With pure effort each day, we’ll completely purify our pain
detroying samsara and our conceptions, stained
attaining freedom forever from attachment’s unbearable hook
sympathy is
I see your suffering, and I relate
empathy is
I see your suffering, and I wish to relate
compassion is
I see your suffering and I wish you to be free from it
bodhichitta is
I cannot bear to see your suffering, so I will become enlightened to free you from it
Most of what we speak & seek
is causes for – and sympathy;
but how much better would life be,
if we abandoned victim mentality?
Why is sorrow such a strange addiction,
so familiar to my mind?
I cannot be free from misery;
it’s all I’ve known and all I’ll find!
— such an easy thing to cry
believing escape from suffering a lie
unknowing there’s a firm way out
for those with patient, faithful eyes,
for those who abandon deluded doubt
— What imagination is this!
what strength it takes to change one’s sight
no material quest could yield such result
for in samsara one cannot do right
— What can one do!
rely upon blessings & elevate intention
remain natural while wishing to help; think:
Oh! What would it really be like
to be happy and kind spontaneously
to face all problems with joyful mind
with strength and courage to defeat all foes
while maintaining love and compassion, I’ll find
it easy for blessings to arise, received and bestowed
I’ll help all living beings with ease and with grace
I’ll abandon delusion, because fearless I face
the appearances that rise and fall –
hallucinations, like dreams –
understanding reality, from mind,
is never as seems
because I’m grasping, anxious, clinging
my stories are hard to let go
I should instead rewrite myself the hero
great responsibility mine, undeniably so
How could I cope with this level of fame?
in anonymity, no one knowing my name
in correct paths I follow
but I must impute
I’m no longer a victim, no longer the brute
seeing myself the lowest of all,
through infinite timelines, I recall
the artist’s drive to wield the sword
settling instead for
ink seldom seen and music sometimes heard
limited proud intention
to right the wrongs and mend men’s minds
still what more can I do but mimic
in appreciation of writers of Blake’s kind
I render copied letter into copied word
Tyger, Tyger burning bright
surprised to find you here tonight
easy confidence, phat face
curly locks, so out of place
twinkle, twinkle, of thyne eye
what is your fearful symmetry?
absent, as one pupil enlarged
brightly burning in furnace forged
what is they breath? thy breast? thy might?
so like a woman in the night!
odd & absent-minded maid
back to cold burner, you do fade
he speaks to her with bleary eye
long-winded and past-wounded
he longs for sympathy, to cry
nearly, he is refusèd
she listens with a weary ear
she’s heard it all before
her heart is hardened, scarred by fear
his hurt she can ignore
what good is sympathy to folks
with pain and broken heart
it is compassion that fixes our flaws
so simple is our part
from compassion comes love
and it’s easy to flourish
exchange self with others
with a quick change of intention
to complete all actions with ease
we develop bodhichitta motivation
with familiarity come all habits
spontaneous, effortless
removing delusions from our mind
we soon derive meaning
from the very thing that was,
from our side, meaningless
develop and meditate upon
correct intention
pray for wisdom
sympathy is
I see your suffering, and I relate
empathy is
I see your suffering, and I wish to relate
compassion is
I see your suffering and I wish you to be free from it
bodhichitta is
I cannot bear to see your suffering, so I will become enlightened to free you from it
Categories
Impermanence
from happy to sad
so quickly
it never lasts
it never lasts
it never lasts
Categories
a week before the fall
a slothful orb ascends,
slowly across the southern sky
already missing its peak
it shirks responsibility,
no longer a light above by nine a.m.
in the yard, clocked shadows hold morning’s chill
while, with a furnace blast, blazing warmth is cast
lethally, from an expiring sun’s face
what a time of year
one of dread and fascination
a reverse magic of the spring takes place
dishearteningly unbelievable
everything once vital and green
withers away, as flames to ash
full bushes decay under still-blue skies
crosshatched with chem trails
autumn’s appearance should sting less
with each year of expectation
but the knife travels the same scar,
ripping the tissue open once more
spilling the crinkle of leaves, isolated chirps
icy rainfall spurts
there can be no love in autumn
what — love for a dying thing?
we expect spring’s rebirth in its vein
but it’s different
inconceivably so
as nothing can come back the same
taking its time, different life does grow
I no longer delight in season’s change
a witness to illness arising
and constant pain
raw attachment, unhooked anew,
broken hearts where love once grew
I cannot bear to face the task
of reliving seasons, to watch them pass
as all things slip like time in glass
my cageless prison, this life, outlasts
free me before I plunge once more
through autumn’s orange enchanted door
cold aversion ripening
grasping at inherent things
I know it’s wrong, so little worse
than self-cherishing
my ugly curse
may I be free before the fall
— just one more week
to see it all
correctly
In each life
we walk away
from one another
thinking this life will be different
we tried it again
and now
we walk away
from one another
a different name
a different place
a different time
if the karma remains
unpurified
again we’ll try
again we’ll try
Categories
Antidote
I do not want vacations
I do not want jewels
I don’t mind bouquets of flowers
but someone must take them out
when they begin to rot and stink
and I am busy spending ink
I don’t want riches
I don’t want gold
I don’t mind pearls
but that’s because they’re a symbol of purity
– at least that’s what I’m told
I don’t want to hoard for when I’m old
I don’t want too much trouble
I’ll just take enough
to prepare me, make me stronger
for when things inevitably get tough
I don’t want to be a mark
I don’t want to be a thief
I don’t want to receive more
than my share of beef
I don’t want my own car
I don’t want my own house
I don’t want to own pets
or really anything else!
It may sound a little lazy
it may even sound lame
but I’ll take a peaceful life
unburdened by such wanton things
It’s all really perverse –
this cruel misunderstanding
of how reality exists
manically apart and magnetically banding
I do not want the wool
pulled over my eyes
I do not want to ignore
the suffering, the cries
I wish to be free from it all
and collect only the treasure of Dharma
for there is no practice too small
and all experiences are karma
I do not want vacations
I do not want jewels
I desire no relationship
I no longer suffer fools
with all my mind in refuge
every moment, every day
it’s incredible how quickly
the three poisons fade away
Categories
Imagination | Session 20
Imagination is a funny thing
Can be a vile thing
A wildling, can motivate
Or desecrate
With or without the evidence
Mind makes its own proof
Mind draws me in attachment
Then makes me act aloof
Imagination is a lonely thing
Appearing individual and separate
Travels as though disparate
Never in one place
Ever pervading space
Remembering those I’ve met
Ever scheming, making bets
Ever brushing against yours
Yet pretending we’re all bores
How can we rely upon such a beast?
For it’s our untuned vehicle
Rattles over bumps and around curves
Unoiled, rusted, nearly busted
Soft, moth-eaten, torn-fabric seats
Our minds have been used and abused
We’re so confused, and we’re always
Giving our power to those who prey
Who eat away all day to get their fill
Upon the lonelies,
the innocents, the broken
Those who have not awoken
Those whose hearts have turned to clay
Moldable, opposable yet breakable
When dry and old and grey
May my mind not go that way
Imagination is a funny thing
A lovely thing
Can make you sing,
When you fill yourself with love and understanding
Gives you courage to jump
Lets you float before landing
And how can we access this happy mind alone?
One that helps others
Defends against crones
Simple as this
Control your mind
Or someone else will
The Halfwit Writer 